The Death Eater's Child
by spikeslovley
Summary: An indescribable force entered the lives of Draco and Hermione, and they were utterly powerless to resist it's influence. However, sleeping with Draco Malfoy had far worse consequences than Hermione had anticipated. She was carrying his child.
1. Chapter 1

It had been over a month. She had avoided it for this long but decided she couldn't leave things unclear anymore. She decided to do it where it would be unlikely he would cause a scene. The great hall. Monday morning. Breakfast. The throng of students eager to begin the week with a hearty meal created the perfect cover. Hermione Granger worked up the nerve to corner Draco Malfoy as he entered the hall; she fought in vain to stop the fresh memories of their first and final night together from bursting past the mental barriers she erected. It was almost surreal that it had even occurred. Hermione prided herself on her intelligence, but she had yet to formulate a half-way decent theory to explain how she ended up sleeping with Draco Malfoy. It wasn't that she had regretted her decision. It was that she didn't and truly could not fight against the overwhelming desire to give herself to him. It wasn't a spell, a potion, or even hormones. It was something else entirely.

"_Not that I intend on stopping Granger, but are you sure about this?" Draco breathed in her ear, causing a shiver or pleasure to travel up her spine._

_He was deftly undoing the buttons of her school blouse to reveal a plain white bra with a hint of lace._

"_Y-Yes." Hermione stammered. "Don't stop," she added as an afterthought, intending to speed up his ministrations._

_Spurred on by her response, Draco quickly relieved her of her skirt and underwear. Her bra followed soon after. Her clothes were rendered unwearable as he removed them in a violent and impatient fashion._

"_Um... could you maybe... as well... since I'm so..." she said motioning to his fully clad form and her nude one._

"_I'll undress when I damn well feel like, which, luckily for you just happens to be now." The huskiness of his voice reverberated right to her core. Moments later Draco Malfoy, Prince of Slytherin, was standing in front of her in all his naked glory. And glorious it was._

_Before Hermione knew it, Draco was touching her in all sorts of delicious places. Some she hadn't even realised were erotic. She muffled a gasp of pleasure in Draco's shoulder, softly biting the skin._

"_Am I to be the lucky bloke to pop your Mudblood cherry?"_

_Hermione felt a flash of anger at the disgusting term he so often used, a pink tinge stained her cheeks from her anger and embarrassment that he was indeed to be her first. But no matter how hard she tried to summon up the will to leave him, she couldn't._

_A deep chuckle escaped his mouth; he considered her physical response and steamy silence as confirmation._

_Attempting to gain some semblance of control, Hermione reached down to grasp Draco firmly._

_She felt and heard the growl that echoed through his throat and chest as a result of her actions. He gently removed her hands and said, "I think we'd better start."_

_Draco scooped Hermione into his arms and carried her over to his metallic silver bed sheets. He laid himself on top of her and whispered sensually, "I'd rather be inside you for the first time you make me come."_

_He raised his head to gauge her reaction to his provocative words. Never had they spoken to each in such a manner._

_A light flush began to heat its way up Hermione's cheeks, Draco ruled this as a victory and smirked._

"_Take a breath" He advised, intertwining his fingers with hers._

_At her small, almost imperceptible nod he gradually began._

_Both were breathing heavily, completely consumed by the experience. They locked eyes; Draco made the final push through and swallowed her small cry of pain with a passionate kiss._

_Both remained perfectly still for a few moments._

_Hermione rotated her hips experimentally and was rewarded by a shock of pleasure tinged with a dull ache that she wanted to experiences again, and again, and again._

_As their pleasure and ecstasy mounted, so did their rhythm._

_Hermione dug her heels into Draco's back whilst he steadily increased his pace and angled his hips._

_Hermione stroked her finger from Draco's back and to his shoulder, when he hit a particularly enjoyable spot she gripped his forearm tightly, holding on for dear life. She felt the skin was slightly raised._

_The curious witch lightly traced the outline of the figure on his forearm. Draco slowed down as realisation dawned. She had discovered what had only been rumoured._

_Draco Malfoy had the Dark Mark._

_Looking down in resignation, tears collected in her chocolate brown eyes and her mouth opened in a silent scream. There it was, stark and ugly against his pale skin._

_A lone tear escaped when Hermione closed her eyes to regain composure. When she opened them she was drawn into the depths of Draco's eyes. His brow furrowed in frustration, he did not appreciate her trying to get inside his mind._

"_This is who I am," he stated unapologetically. Hardness settled in his eyes as he awaited her reaction._

_Without warning, Hermione grasped Draco's shoulders forcefully and began to arch her hips whilst rocking against him with renewed vigour._

_Hermione leant up to murmur in the throes of passion, "Just tonight... just this once."_

_A delightfully warm tension was beginning to build in her core; she was almost exploding with her release. The words that finally pushed her over the edge were, "No...It won't be. There will be much more, I promise you."_

By the morning, she had returned to her own room. She didn't wake him or leave him a note. Everything she wanted to say needed to be said in person so he could see the unmistakable glint of conviction in her eyes when she said it. Hermione Granger was terrified and she felt violated. Not by Draco, but by whatever entity had decided to intervene and complicate her life. Two things occurred to her when she was getting changed out of the Slytherin quidditch jersey she had stolen from Draco. The first was that Draco was a Death Eater. The Second was that both of them were in very real danger. Draco would be cast out as a blood traitor for daring to sully himself with Queen of the Mudbloods herself, or most probably worse seeing as how he aligned himself with a cult that readily tortures and kills muggles and wizards alike. If she hadn't already provoked Voldermort enough by existing, Hermione had also made a habit of becoming his mortal enemy. To add insult to injury she had slept with his newest rising star. It was obvious what she had to do.

Standing from her seat, she took quick strides towards Draco. He looked elated and annoyed, no doubt bitter from waking up alone this morning.

With a swagger in his step, Draco sauntered towards her drawling, "Well, well, well, talking to me again? So, I noticed a certain piece of clothing had run off inconveniently enough, I'll be needing it back I have first practice of the season this afternoon –"

Hermione cut him off, "Malfoy. I - I just wanted to make it clear that we won't be... together again," she started off confidently. "I can't be with you. It was a mistake and it can't happen again, I don't know _what_ made us do it. What you are... I can't live with it. I could never touch someone who is a follower of Voldermort and ultimately a selfish prat who wants to use me for his own self gratification."

Without waiting for a reply, she turned on her heel and started back towards her table.

Hermione Granger, who is renowned for her intelligence, was wrong for what could be the first time in her life. Draco was not deterred by the vast amount of people in the great hall.

Grabbing her wrist firmly, Draco spun her back around. He was rapidly attracting the individual attention of every student in the Great Hall. Conversation ceased, many students turned their attention towards the couple expectantly and curiously.

"Granger... this is over when _I_ say so -"

"I think not," she hissed.

She proceeded to walk away again, but was stopped by sheer shock at his next words that seemed to echo on for hours through the highly acoustic hall, "I know you want me just as much as I want you. I know you felt it. The power that surrounded us."

An embarrassed flush was rising up her cheeks at an alarming rate. Whoever wasn't listening prior to Draco's outburst was now firmly attentive. The meaning of his words was not lost on the crowd.

"Let's talk about this later," Hermione attempted to reason.

"No! You know what, if you were worried about people finding out about your little indiscretion, _sleeping with me that is_. It's done. So, skip the moral crisis."

A collective gasp echoed amongst the crowd. The unthinkable had just occurred.

Hermione's throat felt thick with tears, she was overwrought by the emotions inside her at Malfoy's words.

"You insufferable git," she choked. Stumbling backwards, she prepared to launch herself into a dead run towards her dormitory.

"I don't know what you're blubbering about, I'm the one with a reputation to protect, which I believe I just tarnished severely. Now that I think about it, doesn't seem so worth it," he declared unashamedly.

In moments, his biting words had reached the farthest corners of the hall.

Everyone was staring intently at her, awaiting her response to such a public slander.

Her first instinct was to lash out in anger, she trusted this instinct.

"How _dare_ you," she rebuked. "Your reputation will suffer a fatal blow if you don't shut it, Malfoy. Or are you forgetting what _exactly_ I discovered about you."

That silenced him. For about thirty seconds.

"Go ahead," he goaded. "Tell everyone. I was actually beginning to wonder why Dumbledore hadn't already carted me off to Azkaban. Tell them who it was _exactly_ who you gave yourself to. I'm sure they'll look upon you with more pride then they already are."

Hermione took a second to glance around the hall, what she observed caused fresh tears to spring to her eyes.

Her house looked upon her with such disgust she thought she might be sick. The slimy Slytherins leered at her and cheered Draco on.

Suddenly Harry and Ron burst through the crowd and stood in front of her protectively, she was barely aware of their presence. Hermione was now sickeningly aware of the act she had committed. And the consequences.

"Malfoy, push off before I turn you into the slimy ferret that you are," Harry threatened through a clenched jaw.

Hermione couldn't take the humiliation anymore. Her knees gave out. She landed with a thud, causing the three boys to look at her broken form.

She started at her hands, unable to think, unable to speak, unable to move.

She slept with Draco Malfoy. Death Eater. Manipulator. An insensitive and vile human being. She had known he possessed these despicable traits from the moment she laid eyes on him, yet she had committed this unspeakable act anyway.

Hermione didn't have anything else to lose. She might as well tell him. It was quite possibly the only thing that could shut him up. And he deserved. Oh, did he deserve it.

Slowly, she stood.

Putting her hands on the shoulders of her two best friends, she signalled them to stand down.

They looked at her in curiosity, but hesitantly lowered their wands.

"Calling off your dogs are you?"

Hermione remained silent as she stalked towards him, this unsettled Malfoy deeply.

"This is your fault you know, we could have gone of happily shagging, there was _something _there with us. I'm not talking about nancy boy feelings, but a primal power. No one needed to know, but you had to mess with what quite possibly could have been a good thing. You being my Mudblood whore, me being -"

He stopped mid tirade. The fury reflected in the fiery depths of scalding brown eyes caused a shiver of pure unadulterated fear to claw its way up his spine.

Leaning in so close that her lips were pressed against the shell of his ear, Hermione announced none to quietly to Draco and three quarters of the Hogwarts student body, "I'm pregnant."


	2. Chapter 2

2.

McGonagall pushed her way through the vast crowd of students, "Back to your dormitories, all of you!" she ordered.

Her face was nearly as pale and shell-shocked as the four remaining students in front of her.

"You four! To the Headmaster's office immediately!"

Without another word McGonagall lead the way.

Hermione willed herself to remain resolute and not turn her head to witness Malfoy's reaction to her public admission.

However, it was difficult not to notice the complete lack of explosive reactions from her two closest friends who would have killed Malfoy for less. This was most disconcerting.

They both walked slightly ahead, but Hermione could still plainly see the sadness and grim acceptance painted on their countenance'. It irked her deeply. Her heart sunk lower as they rounded the corner and reached the Gargoyle that faithfully guarded Dumbledore's office.

"Sugar quill," McGonagall said.

Whilst climbing the stairs, Malfoy unexpectedly sped up to walk beside Hermione. She felt like he was suffocating her with his presence, and didn't acknowledge him in the slightest.

"You can't be pregnant. I cast a contraceptive charm," he accused, though with a pleading edge to his words that begged her to put his fears to rest.

Hermione almost drew blood from biting her tongue so that she wouldn't reply with a nasty retort. She wouldn't give him the satisfaction. He'll know she wasn't lying soon enough she imagined.

The four students sat down in front of Dumbledore. His expression was unreadable. He could be angry, disappointed, or disgusted. Most likely all of the above.

"You are with child Miss Granger?" he inquired.

"Yes, sir," she confirmed.

"And it is Mister Malfoy's?"

Hermione nodded, not able to meet her headmaster's eyes.

"Excellent." He proclaimed.

Wait, what? Had she heard him right? Had Albus Dumbledore truly just declared that teenage pregnancy was _excellent?_

"I'm sorry sir, I don't think I understand."

"Oh, of course, of course." he replied, as if he had just realised he had forgotten to mention a vital piece of information. And vital it most certainly was.

Malfoy, against all her previous expectations, had yet to speak. Not that she was complaining.

Hermione had noticed for the first time that Professor Trelawney was standing beside Dumbledore.

"Would you care to enlighten Miss Granger and Mister Malfoy?"

Oh great. Now she had to listen to a deranged woman drivel on about how she is going to die a horrible death because it says so in her tea cup.

"O-Of course, Albus."

Hermione could sense something that resembled pangs of remorse in the words spoken by the divination teacher.

"A few years ago I believe I received a prophecy. However, no one was a witness to it and so I remained blissfully ignorant that it had even occurred. As you know, I am unconscious when I receive a prophecy. Four months ago a presence visited me... one that not even I can explain -" Hermione fought to hold back the unladylike snort that threatened to erupt from her, " – and it showed myself receiving the prophecy years before. I believe it was because it was not long before it would be fulfilled. If I could just get my crystal ball I could explain this all so much better..."

"That won't be necessary, I apologise for taking you away from your daily reading. Good night."

Thankfully, Trelawney left. Unfortunately Hermione felt just as uninformed as she did before she entered the Headmaster's office. Wasn't she supposed to be getting expelled for conducting herself in such an irresponsible manner?

"It is finally confirmed that the prophecy she speaks of concerns you, Draco, and your unborn child."

This time Hermione couldn't refrain from glancing over to Malfoy. He was gripping the sides of his chair so tightly his knuckles were white; his mouth was slightly open in shock. She could sense he no longer doubted her in the slightest. Feeling her gaze on him, Malfoy looked over at Hermione with a combination of horror and trepidation. That was more like it, Hermione revelled in his discomfort.

"_There will be a union of worlds. The union will commence upon the birth of a child conceived by a dragon of Salazar and lioness of Godric. He will be untainted, she will be stained. Only when the child is born and the two incompatible beings forge an inextricable bond can the two worlds co-exist peacefully and tolerant of each other. Without both the worlds will destroy themselves, fuelled with hatred and resentment of each other. The dragon, lioness, and their child will be the undisputed leaders of the new, reconciled world."_

Dumbledore was met with stunned silence.

He couldn't possibly be suggesting what Hermione thought he was. It wasn't possible. Then again, she didn't think a universe existed where it was possible for her to be pregnant with Draco Malfoy's child. She had since become more open minded.

"Are you suggesting that the fate of the magical and muggle world is dependent on how well Granger and I can _get along,_" Malfoy bit out slowly.

"In a terribly simplified way, I suppose I am." Dumbledore replied in his usual calm and collected fashion.

While Dumbledore was speaking, Hermione focussed her accusing gaze upon her two best friends who couldn't meet her stare with their guilt-ridden eyes.

"You – You knew about this, didn't you? Ron? Harry? Answer me!" Her voice cracked with the tears that obstructed her throat from their betrayal.

"We couldn't tell you 'Mione... we're so sorry," Ron admitted quietly, eyes firmly directed at the floor.

"You _said _we had more time! You said we had time to prepare them!" Harry roared at Dumbledore, brushing off Hermione's question.

"That I did. I'm truly sorry, but I am not infallible. There were no indications of any kind that suggested it would be occurring so soon. But it is done now and all I can ask is that we move past the initial shock of this unexpected occurrence and focus on the problem at hand."

He met each individual person's eyes, confirming that each agreed.

Malfoy looked like someone had slipped him a puking pasty.

"Voldermort already knew about the prophecy, but I only saw him receiving word that it had been set in motion a few hours ago. He was... pleased. There are obviously death eaters amongst us here at Hogwarts," Harry's tone was laced with disgust.

Hermione cast a fleeting glance towards Malfoy.

"He decided you were too much of a liability. Hermione... he has every death eater under the orders to kill you on site if they see you."

Hermione unconsciously brought her hand up to her still flat stomach. Like a bucket of ice water thrown on her, she was again brutally reminded that Malfoy was a death eater and subsequently the biggest danger to her and her child right now.

Rising from her seat, Hermione stumbled into the farthest corner of the room away from Malfoy.

"He's a death eater!" she cried, pointing at Malfoy and condemning him.

"Oi!" Draco replied in indignation that she had revealed him.

Dumbledore pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration. "We are well aware of his status. Draco, I would prefer for you to come to the right decision on your own time and terms, but unfortunately your parents have already made a decision for you."

Draco's heart was in jeopardy of bursting through his ribcage; his imagination ran rampant with images of his father ordering him murder Granger and _his _child. His stomach lurched dangerously when it occurred to him that he might actually...

Refuse.

"They have decided that you will fulfil the prophecy's terms."

Merlin. It was worse than he imagined.

"Like hell I will," he ground out.

"I can't say I am opposed to the decision... despite their ulterior motives," Dumbledore mumbled.

Turning to Hermione he announced, "Miss Granger, I also took of the liberty of owling your parents. They should be here within the hour, as will your parents Mister Malfoy."

At this revelation, Hermione and Draco exploded into denials claiming that neither could nor _would_ be in the same room as each other's parents.

"You expect _my_ parents to be civil towards a couple of muggles -"

"How can you expect my muggle parents to be able to put up with the likes of the _Malfoy's -?"_

"_SILENCE!"_ Dumbledore roared.

The air was thick with tension, no one dared to speak a word.

"I understand your misgivings. Both of you. But again I must implore you to consider the detrimental effects that your animosity towards each other with ultimately have on _the entire world_."

Hermione didn't know how to respond.

Draco didn't appear to have that issue.

"Why?" He growled.

"Why, what?"Dumbledore inquired, confusion evident in his tone.

"Why were we tapped?"

Dumbledore appeared to sincerely consider his question, after a few moments of silent contemplation he said, "All I know is that right now the world as we know it is about to shift greatly. And right now it is apparently Miss Granger and yourself who are the most capable and most suited human beings to aid the world in making a smooth transition."

All attention shifted towards The Headmaster's fireplace as the flames glowed green, signalling that they would soon be receiving guests.

As the smoke cleared the unmistakable white, silky hair of the Malfoy family surfaced.

"Father!" Draco hollered.

Striding towards Lucias he shouted, "Why are you doing this to me? Why are you making me fulfil the prophecy's terms?"

"I do not have to explain myself to you, my decision is final." Lucias sneered.

Malfoy appeared to inflate with rage; he was always an obedient and doting son even when his father's treatment did not warrant his compliance. However, this was a situation in which Draco would not stand for his Father's evasiveness.

"_No." _Draco stood firm, his met his father's rapidly darkening gaze unflinchingly.

"It suited us to be loyal followers of the dark lord. Clearly, now it does not. I see our family with a much brighter future aligned with your mu...ggle-born and half-blood child. We will restore our family to a position of greatness instead of servitude. Does that explanation satisfy you?I only have our best interests at heart.... and never again will I tolerate your insolence," Lucias quirked his pale eyebrow, daring Draco to retort.

Narcissa had yet to speak. Instead she stood a step behind her husband and fleetingly assessed Hermione with a critical eye. She struggled not to squirm from her penetrating, accusatory gaze.

The fireplace glowed green again, and a few moments later there were two more parents in the headmaster's office. The contrasts between Hermione and Draco's parents were insurmountable.

The Granger's strode towards their daughter, swept her up in a family hug, sobbing and crying.

"Hermione! Oh, my poor baby, pregnant? The letter said something about it being _inevitable_ and critical to the fate of the world! Just what exactly is going on here!" Hermione's mother, Deidra, commanded. Her tone demanded an immediate explanation.

Hermione stole a reproving glance towards her headmaster, how could he have revealed things so callously in a letter?

"Mr. and Mrs. Granger, allow me to explain everything..." Dumbledore proceeded to inform them of the prophecy and the circumstances that now existed as a consequence. Namely, that Hermione and her child's life were in mortal peril.

Hermione's father, Joe, clutched at his wife's hand desperately as they struggled to cope with the burden that had been dealt to their child.

"This is Lucias and Narcissa Malfoy, Draco's parents. The child's father." Dumbledore added helpfully, in case her parents were too naive to understand their presence.

"I –I'm not sure I understand... isn't this the boy who calls you those ghastly names, Hermione? Didn't you punch him in the nose in your third year -?"

Deidra was cut off by Draco, "That'd be me," he drawled.

Surprisingly, Draco stood from his chair and presented his hand for her father to shake. "Draco Malfoy sir, pleasure to meet you."

Hermione nearly choked on the shock that formed as a lump in her throat. Who knew Malfoy could find it in himself to be civil towards Muggles.

Her father eyed his hand wearily, and with more than a bit of hostility before begrudgingly shaking it.

Without another word Draco sat down again.

"Now," Dumbledore clapped the desk with a resounding _thump_, "we are all familiar with each now. We will reconvene a week from today to discuss secure locations for the holidays. I would like all of you to be present please. That is all, I trust you will all have a pleasant evening."

Knowing a dismissal when they heard one, the Granger's returned home with heartfelt goodbye's and reassuring words, where as the Malfoy's parted with a curt nod and a prim peck on the cheek from Narcissa.

Harry and Ron started for the door, but Hermione heard the footsteps cease as they waited for her to join them.

Draco turned towards her, his face void of any emotion. Without a word or acknowledgement, he left.

"Miss Granger, please take good care of yourself. You will be attending regular checkups with Madam Promfery and St. Mungo's, or a muggle hospital if you wish. Please do not do anything rash that could put you and your child in jeopardy."

Dumbledore's face was solemn, as if he already knew the trials and tribulations that were to come.

Hermione squared her shoulders, released a deep breath, and attempted to organise her thoughts.

There was a hard road ahead of her, one that was going to be made even harder by Draco's uncooperativeness. She had the horrible, sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach that she would be fighting with him tooth and tail to fulfil this prophecy to best of their ability.

She honestly didn't believe she had it in her.

To care for him.

She couldn't even bring herself to consider the word. Love.


	3. Chapter 3

She had forgiven Ron and Harry. After a week of ignoring their constant apologies she broke. Hermione didn't exactly have an abundance of friends that she could go to with her current condition.

Malfoy wouldn't speak to her unless he was absolutely forced to... and that didn't mean he responded when she spoke to him.

Hermione would much prefer to pretend that Draco Malfoy never existed and that her pregnancy was an immaculate conception. But she felt a warped sense of obligation. She felt that she needed to _try_ and have a conversation that extended beyond the next check-up and meeting. Hermione felt more foolish and humiliated each time she made a pitiful attempt at communication, but it wasn't because he shot her down each and every time. It was because her heart wasn't in it. She was ashamed of her half-hearted efforts, but couldn't muster the will to do anything more because she didn't truly want it. Hermione had grown accustomed to the cold, indifferent and callous human being that Draco was and it was proving to be an impossible task to change her view of him when everything he did only served to reinforce her perception. She was trying to force something that would have to come naturally to both of them, or not at all.

The future of the free world looked bleak.

It was clear that Draco had still not accepted his role in the prophecy. He did the bare minimum of what was required of him to keep his father content, but that was all. He didn't want to anger the man, it was widely known that his temper quickly spiralled out of control and Draco did not want to be on the receiving end.

But doing the bare minimum wasn't going to cut it this time.

Draco sat on the edge of his seat observing a confrontation that could only end badly for the Slytherin girl's target.

Granger.

Draco was thoroughly confused and highly suspicious. Instead of pasting a sneer on her face and verbally attacking Hermione as he expected from Pansy Parkinson, she donned a sweet, amiable smile as she approached Hermione along with Millicent.

Merlin. This was going to be far worse than he thought.

At first he saw Hermione tense as they addressed her, but she appeared to answer their questions in a civil, but reserved manner. Draco caught a few of Pansy's queries, "When are you due?" "Do you know if it's a boy or a girl?" And his personal favourite, "Isn't Draco just absolutely _divine_ in bed?"

As if she would know, silly bint.

It soon became apparent that her questions were a very effective diversionary tactic. Hermione attempted to puzzle out why Pansy Parkinson was having a civil conversation with her, which meant Millicent remained unnoticed by all except Draco when she shifted her position to pour a green, syrupy liquid into Hermione's Pumpkin Juice.

For some reason he doubted it was a Pepper-up potion or something equally as harmless.

Draco shifted his gaze towards the blundering buffoons Granger called her _friends_ only to see that they were in a compelling argument with two Slytherins that appeared to be about who would win the Quidditch Cup. Another cleverly placed distraction.

No one was going to help her.

For a moment, Draco considered what the potion was intended to do. He deduced that it was most probably harmful to the child, and subsequently harmful to Hermione. He briefly entertained the thought of pretending to be blissfully ignorant of what he was witnessing and be released from his burden.

But only briefly. No matter how much he vehemently disliked the situation he was in, he was no murderer.

Luckily, Granger had not felt compelled to have a drink as of yet.

Draco pushed his chair out with a loud screech and resigned himself to the fact that _he_ was going to have to be the hero. He so hated being the hero.

Striding up to Gryffindor's table, his presence went unnoticed until he spoke.

"Having a nice _chat_ are we girls?"

He didn't miss the shocked expression that settled on Hermione's face at his intervention, neither was he oblivious to the panicked expressions shared between Pansy and Millicent.

"D-Draco..." Pansy stuttered, unable to formulate a coherent sentence.

Hermione felt the atmosphere turn tense; her gaze flitted back and forth between the three Slytherins with the niggling feeling that she was missing something imperative. She was also greatly disconcerted that Malfoy had approached her at all.

To calm her nerves, Hermione reached for her drink. Just before she brought it to her lips, Malfoy's hand shot out and wrenched it from her grasp.

Without offering an explanation to Hermione, Malfoy glared daggers at the two girls opposite him.

"Do not _ever_ involve yourselves in my business again. If I come to find that you have intervened in any way I promise you that any punishment the Dark Lord could inflict would pale in comparison to what I would do to you. Are we clear?" Malfoy's voice had dropped to a deadly whisper, his voice shook with controlled rage.

By this point Harry and Ron had become aware of the situation; Draco turned his accusing gaze towards the two.

"Pay attention next time because I won't be able to thwart every attempt on her life. And you can be sure that there will be a next time."

Draco sloshed Hermione's drink onto Ron's mountainous plate of food and headed back to his respective table before he could witness a disintegrating, tumultuous pile of melted metal and various unrecognisable foods.

Hermione's breath hitched in her throat as reality dawned. That should have been her. That should have been her child.

"In light of recent events, I feel that alternate arrangements should be put in place for the holidays. Malfoy Manor is most secure and almost impenetrable; I must request Miss Granger that you spend the holidays there," Dumbledore implored her.

"What about my family?" Hermione questioned, with more than a hint of despair.

"Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy have been so kind to invite your parents to stay at the manor also, are you so inclined to accept their invitation?"

She contemplated refusing and seeing how long it took before she was dragged their bodily. Hermione despised the illusion that she had a choice. It was a mere courtesy that she be asked and she knew it.

Hermione bit her tongue and simply nodded in response. She had to constantly remind herself that she wasn't just making decisions for herself and any wrong choice she made to protect her pride could potentially harm her unborn child.

"You leave the day after tomorrow, I can't express how much your cooperation and maturity means to me Hermione. You're going to make a great mother and leader. Mister Malfoy is waiting for you at the Hospital wing for your last check up before you leave."

She left Dumbledore's office with tears threatening to spill from her eyes. Hermione felt like a wretched human being for wishing that someone else had the great honour of birthing the leader of the free world.

She had composed herself by the time she reached the Hospital Wing, and Hermione took no notice of Draco who leant against wall in a bored fashion. Striding into the room, Hermione sat on the closest available bed. She didn't even try to make Draco come in anymore, he did nothing more than stand outside until it was over.

But today's check-up was not so cut and dry.

After the usual procedures, Madam Promfery informed Hermione that she would floo to the doctor's office momentarily.

"Doctors office? A muggle doctor?" Hermione had trouble comprehending why they were in need of a muggle doctor's services.

"Yes, of course! You haven't seen your baby yet, you and Mr Malfoy are going to get an ultrasound."

Her heart nearly stopped. She was going to see her baby for the first time.

In a happiness induced trance, Hermione pranced outside to give Draco the joyous news, momentarily forgetting that he might be less enthused.

He rolled his eyes, but knew better than to argue.

Minutes later, Hermione and Draco found themselves in front of Dr. Helman, a muggle doctor married to a witch. A healer none the less.

Hermione dismissed the pang of hurt that bit into her when Draco again opted to stay outside, but felt her mood rise when Dr. Helman refused to do the procedure without him present.

With a resigned sigh, Draco plonked himself onto the seat opposite the reclined chair Hermione had situated herself on.

She couldn't hold back a giggle as she observed the look of distaste on Draco's face when he spotted the Ultrasound machine.

"Okay, shirt up Miss Granger let's take a peek at your little one."

Hermione flinched as the cool conductor gel was spread over her stomach, though she noticed with some satisfaction that Draco now looked immensely interested in what was taking place.

She looked at the screen in anticipation as the doctor navigated her womb.

Something flashed before her eyes; Hermione raised her head suddenly, not believing what she saw.

The doctor went back to the spot and held the instrument there.

There it was. It looked like nothing more than a malformed jelly bean, but it was still the most beautiful thing she had ever seen.

Hermione struggled to keep her emotions in check but the floodgates opened when the sound of her baby's heart filled the room, she gasped into her hand with tears running freely down her face.

"Oh my god," she said in wonderment, completely captured by the image in front of her.

"Is that... Is that it?" she heard Draco breathe.

Hermione stared at him with her mouth agape in complete astonishment.

Draco was standing up, his face pressed close to the screen as if he were committing every detail to memory. His eyes were shining, a sure sign of his emotional state. Hermione saw him gulp hard, attempting to keep himself in check.

"Yeah, that's our baby."

Her voice brought him back to reality; he sunk back into his seat.

What he had just witnessed tugged at heartstrings he had thought were frayed and split long ago.

Draco covered his face with his hands; he was not used to processing emotions of this magnitude. It wasn't in his nature.

He was so confounded that he hadn't noticed that the Doctor cleaned up Hermione and she was already throwing powder in the fireplace.

"Malfoy, are you alright? We really must be getting back." Draco drank in the look of concern that adorned Hermione's face.

Usually once they finished appointments, the two went their separate ways either to their dormitories or classes.

But this time Draco couldn't bring himself to leave her side until the last possible moment, because it took him that long to work up some courage and swallow his pride.

Hermione had four pictures of their child in her back pocket.

He had seen the doctor give them to her, but didn't quite know how to go about asking her for one of them.

Draco knew his behaviour towards her had been less than favourable, therefore he felt ashamed to ask anything of Hermione when he knew he had no right. But something shifted inside him when he focussed on the image of their unborn child and when its heartbeat reached his ears. It wasn't just a notion anymore, or a problem, or something he knew to be there but had never truly accepted. It was a growing human being, and it was half of him. It was his. He could already sense that he had become more emotionally involved than he had planned.

They reached the portrait of the Fat Lady that guarded the Gryffindor common room and dormitories, Draco could go no further.

Before he could think to talk himself out of it or consider what his request could imply he asked, "Could I have one of those photographs?"

Hermione was visibly shocked by his request, but also seemed pleased. A soft smile graced her lips, she handed him the photograph and bid him goodnight.

Draco began the long trek towards the dungeons. He had resigned himself to the fact that he could no longer feel indifferent or impartial towards Hermione or their child, a part of him that had lay dormant since he was a small boy had sprung back to life. He cared about something and someone.

Draco's thoughts turned grim as he recalled that was a very dangerous thing. Long ago a young Draco Malfoy learnt that when you cared about anything, it only hurt more when it was ripped away.


	4. Chapter 4

The Christmas holidays came as a much needed break for all students, but Hermione felt she had been back at Hogwarts for mere days instead of months and she couldn't summon one ounce of Christmas cheer. She wasn't going home. She was going to Malfoy manor, a place she imagined to be unwelcoming with mistreated house elves and a cold draft that no amount of heat could cure. The only thing that gave her some comfort was that her parents would be arriving the day after her, and Harry and Ron promised they would floo over Christmas day.

Hermione was due to meet the Malfoy's at the Headmaster's office in twenty minutes; however, she was still staring sullenly at an empty suitcase. She didn't tend to wear skin tight clothing; she much preferred a pair of jeans or loose fitting slacks and t- shirts rather than a mini skirt, shorts or strappy singlets. The fact that this was true depressed Hermione deeply as she had noticed her waist line growing and her clothes tightening by her fourth month of pregnancy. Her stomach was never flat perfection, but now she had a definite bulge that proved to be difficult to hide. In the end she packed her stretchiest jeans, that seemed to hug her backside and thighs a little more than they used to, and a couple of skirts and singlets that had some give. Even some of her t-shirts became indecent as her breasts swelled. In the end she packed them all anyway, she was left with little choice.

Making her way to Dumbledore's office, Hermione took a moment to say goodbye to Hogwarts, it always made her sad to leave. The Malfoy's were already waiting by the time she got there. She pasted on a somewhat amiable smile and readied herself to floo to Malfoy Manor. Hermione couldn't suppress the shiver that passed through her from head to toe at the thought of what awaited her on the other side.

She risked a look a Draco, who had been silent since she entered, but was unable to decipher his thoughts from his blank expression.

Narcissa Malfoy approached her, Hermione forced herself to ignore the almost overwhelming desire to take a step back.

"Hello Miss Granger, are you feeling well?" Mrs Malfoy asked with surprisingly soft eyes and kind smile.

Hermione wasn't considered the brightest witch of her generation without good reason. A few somewhat pleasant words from a known death eater's wife wasn't going to shake her suspicions.

She replied, "Yes," then realising she sounded rather crass she added, "Thank you."

"Draco, take Miss Granger's luggage for her."

Begrudgingly, Draco shuffled over to fulfil his mother's request.

"That's not necessary, I'm pregnant not incompetent."

Hermione was shocked at her own words, despite the fact that she had an all encompassing hatred for the family in front of her, she never outwardly expressed this. But she refused to apologise just the same.

After a few moments of tense silence Mr Malfoy spoke, "Well, I can already tell we are going to have a _delightful _Christmas together. Shall we take our leave?"

Her room was extravagant for lack of a better word. Hermione felt that this was a room no one could possibly comfortably live in for fear of tainting its beauty. It was not traditionally decorated; the sharp angular surfaces of every piece of furniture inhabiting the room reflected an almost ethereal sheen from the chandelier that adorned the high rise ceiling. Her bed sheets were a rich mahogany red that stood stark against the silvery shine of the walls and furniture.

Malfoy interrupted her quiet contemplation of the room she would be spending a substantial part of her Christmas holidays in, "This is my wing. I'm just next door..." Hermione turned to look at him as he spoke, noticing how Draco was struggling to finish his sentence. He finally concluded with, "So keep the noise down."

Hermione retorted, "Well, I would be lying if I said I was sorry if my morning sickness wakes you. Now, if you don't mind I would like to shower before dinner."

Malfoy didn't react to her scathing response, instead he welcomed it as a familiar and normal aspect to his currently abnormal life.

"Right, bathroom is through that door," he gestured to a door adjacent to the bed, "It adjoins to my room so you'll have to listen out to see if I'm in there."

"Absolutely not, you must have another available bathroom in this overly exuberant mansion."

It appeared that Malfoy was no longer in the mood for her sharp tongue; he walked quickly towards her with a frown marring his features. He soon had her backed against the wall, Hermione could feel his hot breath on her face.

"Listen to me Granger, this is _my_ house, in which, you are a _guest_. You don't like this arrangement, and neither do I. But I can guarantee that your stay here could be almost pleasant if you simply _do what I say._"

Hermione's eyes narrowed dangerously, it was then she realised that any minute progress that had been achieved in their already fragile relationship had been undone.

"And you would think, _Malfoy_, that as a guest, I would be treated better."

Malfoy raised his voice substantially, he had moved so close that his nose was almost touching hers, "Oh you think this is bad? This is five star treatment compared to what a person of your inferior blood status rightfully deserves."

Hermione gasped, clutching her stomach in a protective gesture. She shrunk back against the wall and turned her face away from him. He stood there, breathing heavily for what seemed like forever before abruptly turning around and exiting her room.

Before he took his last step from the room Hermione mumbled something softly.

Draco contemplated ignoring what she said, but stopped anyway and stood facing away from her.

"What was that?" he asked.

When Hermione didn't answer, he turned slightly and what he saw had his heart tightening painfully in his chest.

She had her back to the wall, her hands cupping her swollen abdomen and her face turned away. Despite this, he didn't miss her glistening eyes or the tear tracks that marked her cheeks.

"I said... Is that what you think of our child. Inferior." Hermione's voice shook with the tears she desperately tried to conceal.

Draco didn't know how to respond to the crying figure in front of him. He had never broken her like this before when worse things were said. Should he tell her the truth? Or lie through his teeth.

"No." He said simply.

The truth it was.

A traditional dinner involved hearty food and pleasant conversation.

The Malfoy family departed from this particular convention. Sitting there in tense silence was what passed for a meal, house elves presented each person a dish of exquisitely cooked food and then they would pick up their cutlery, the metal mashing together was the only sound that resounded through the silence, and then they ate with their eyes glued to their plate.

Hermione stared down at her food, suddenly not hungry. This wasn't right, this wasn't her family. A wave of homesickness overtook her.

"You need to eat," Draco said from beside her, his voice startling her slightly.

Hermione had to admit, the elaborately plated lamb cutlets in red wine sauce with polenta and broad beans had a most appealing aroma.

At the conclusion of dinner Mrs Malfoy cleared he throat, "Miss Granger, I wonder if I might have a word with you before you go to bed."

Hermione nodded, dreading what Narcissa Malfoy could have to say to her in private.

She noticed that Lucias and Draco both gave the woman a curious and furtive glance, indicating that they were not privy to what she had to share with Hermione.

Thanks to her and Malfoy's verbal sparring session earlier, she had yet to have a shower.

Hermione tentatively knocked on the bathroom door, more to preserve whatever of her innocence remained than out of politeness to Malfoy. With no response, she walked in began to set up her toiletries and clothes. Just as she was about to get undressed, Malfoy walked in from his entrance.

"Malfoy! Don't you have the decency to knock before you enter?"

He didn't respond, the emotion on his face was difficult for Hermione to gauge.

"Come. And bring your stuff."

Without another word, he left and led her down the hallway towards a room that had steam escaping from underneath the door.

Draco opened the door, Hermione struggled to hold in the gasp that threatened to escape her open mouth.

The bathroom in front of her consisted of a bath tub at least ten metres long filled to the brim with steaming water and vanilla scented bath bubbles. The shower adjacent was large enough for at least six people. The tiling was a deep purple, giving the room a dark and relaxing atmosphere.

She turned to face Draco who hadn't spoken since she walked in, "This... this is amazing."

"No one else uses this one. So you don't have to worry about anyone coming in."

The gesture alone was far more generous than the words he spoke or the tone of his voice.

Draco needed to leave as soon as possible, he feared that Hermione would bring up his parting words from earlier and attempt to make him explain himself. Which, he knew he couldn't do for himself much less her.

"I'll leave you to it. Night."

As he left, he heard her murmur, "Thank you."

He kept his pace, not turning to acknowledge her gratitude.

Hermione sunk into the pleasantly warm tub, she closed her eyes and took a deep cleansing breath.

An hour later, she emerged in higher spirits, which diminished slightly when she remembered she was supposed to meet Mrs Malfoy before she retired to her room.

After a fairly long walk to the second wing of Malfoy Manor, Hermione rapped her knuckles on the door of the master bedroom. Mrs Malfoy answered with a small smile, Hermione noted that her features appeared much softer when he had her white blonde hair hanging loosely around her shoulders.

"Was there something you needed to tell me Mrs Malfoy?" she pressed, wanting to get to bed as soon as possible.

The older lady sat on the end of her bed and patted the spot next to her. Hermione settled herself onto the other side of the bed.

"Do you want to find out the gender of the baby?" She asked.

This was not the question Hermione had expected.

"Um... I hadn't really thought to... Mal – Draco never expressed that he wanted to know, so I didn't bother asking."

Narcissa's expression turned sad and thoughtful

"Yes, I don't suppose he would... Hermione, I asked you here for a favour."

Hermione nodded at her to continue.

"I love my son more than _anything_. When you become a mother in a few short months you will completely comprehend what it means when I say that," the look in Mrs Malfoy's eyes made it impossible for Hermione to dispute her words.

"I have lived with the Malfoy men for over seventeen years, so believe me when I tell you that their words and actions do not necessarily reflect their thoughts and feelings. I am not going to pretend that I know my son's feelings or thoughts about you or your baby, but as a mother I'm asking you to please give Draco a chance. I'm asking you this because I know how he acts towards you and it hurts me inside to think that I could have raised such a cold and... and cruel man."

Narcissa paused as she tried to collect herself before continuing, "And as his mother, I _know_ without a doubt that that he can be loving and fiercely protective. And I can see that he is conflicted about something. I'm just asking that you help him show his true self. There is a part of him that remained intact even after years of emotional abuse, but it is buried beneath a harsh exterior moulded by Lucias."

A wry thought occurred to Hermione, something that should have been on the forefront of her mind but it had surprisingly escaped her. It appeared that the same thing had occurred to Narcissa also.

"But most importantly, what you need to be remembering every moment of everyday day is that your relationship has the cataclysmic power to influence the fate of the world. It is not only your lives that will be impacted upon by your decisions."

No pressure though, Hermione thought.

They sat in silence, with each second that passed Narcissa grew more anxious that she had failed to reach the young girl.

Hermione placed her hand on top of the woman's in front of her, Narcissa turned towards her, eyes glistening, shocked at the intimate contact.

"You're right, I can't be selfish. I won't lie, I see something in Draco I haven't seen before. I don't know what it is or if he'll ever let me in to see it again, but I promise you that I'll try my best to help him."

A watery smile broke out on Narcissa's features, "That is all I ask. Thank you."

On her way to her room, she passed by Draco's. A light was still on and the door open, he sat in bed reading a book. The light emanating from the lamp beside him cast shadows across his face and chiselled bare chest, from the deep wrinkles marring his pale forehead she knew he was not absorbed by thoughts of the books in front of him.

Without looking up he asked, "What did my mother want?"

"To talk about you. And that's all I'm saying. My parents are coming tomorrow, remember."

He grunted in acknowledgment, but didn't press her for further information, his eyes never leaving the page.

Hermione understood she was being dismissed, but Narcissa's words had struck a chord in her. She couldn't accept his unresponsive nature anymore, and she would do everything in her power to elicit something real from him. The wall built between them would come tumbling down. He had divulged once before, and she would make him do it again.

"I haven't forgotten what you admitted earlier, Draco. You might want to be careful or I'll start thinking you care. Goodnight."

Hermione left Draco shocked, he had prayed in vain that she would continue on as if nothing were said, but he Hermione wasn't the type of girl to make it easy for him. He could tell this was only the beginning. She had called him Draco.


	5. Chapter 5

Hermione awoke slowly, confusion settled in as she noted that her sheets felt too soft and her bed too big. Suddenly, yesterday's memories came rushing back in a flood. Oh yeah. She was at Malfoy Manor.

Hermione wasn't one to spend all day in bed, the muggle clock she had brought with her, to give a sense of home, read eight in the morning. A thrill of excitement and deep longing filled her as she recalled that her parents would be arriving soon to spend the day with her. However, until then, she didn't feel especially ready to face the Malfoy family.

Hermione rose from her bed and briefly contemplated throwing on her dressing gown, but she decided there was no need as she and Malfoy were the only people in the wing. She also fleetingly recollected from her_ experience_ that Draco relished sleeping late into the morning. Her only issue was that the oversized t-shirt she habitually wore to bed now barely touched mid-thigh as the result of her bulging mid section.

More excitement filled her at the thought of her bathroom, the only upside to the soul chilling dreariness of the Manor.

En route to the bathroom, a horrid nauseating sensation seeped into her stomach. Perfect timing. Hermione practically sprinted the rest of the way and hauled herself onto all fours to retch last night's gourmet dinner into the toilet. After a few minutes, she laid her head against the cool floor to soothe her pounding head. This couldn't go on for much longer.

Hermione couldn't even scrounge up the energy to lift her head when the sound of a throat clearing shattered the peace of the bathroom.

"You weren't kidding about the morning sickness I see," said Draco, his voice gravely with sleep.

She snapped her eyes open to be presented with Draco, rubbing his eyes and mussing his hair, bare to the waist with only a pair of black cotton boxers. Her traitorous body began to blush.

"Do you have something against clothing?" she mumbled.

He made his way over to the sink, on his way he passed behind her and said, "I could say the same to you."

Bollocks. She was pantless.

Instantaneously, Hermione sprung to life, she sat up and wrenched her shirt over her exposed rear. Dizziness overtook her senses as a result of her flurried actions, she rested her head against the tiled wall behind her and closed her eyes again, disinterested in whatever Malfoy was fussing about with at the sink.

A few seconds later, a shadow settled in front of her closed eyes. She opened them a fraction to see Draco crouched down and holding a glass of water up to her lips.

"Drink."

Hermione gulped the water gratefully. "Thanks."

He grunted in acknowledgement.

"You know, next time someone shows you gratitude, which I'd wager would be maybe once a decade, you might want to try out a polite "your welcome," and see how it feels."

Draco laughed, a true laugh. Not a chortle or a snigger. A laugh filled with genuine humour.

"I don't know about every decade, you've been abnormally _gracious _to me since you got here."

He was expecting defensive denial, or at the very least a haughty exit.

But what he got was a ghost of a smile and, "Well, surprisingly Draco, you have done a few things that I am grateful for."

Silence succeeded her words as Draco processed them, the only noise that resounded through the spacious bathroom was Hermione rising unsteadily to her feet, but then thinking better of it as she remembered her state of undress.

"Uh, do you mind leaving first?" She asked Draco, cheeks flaming crimson.

He replied, "Actually, I'd rather like to witness this," but at her exasperated look he conceded and proceeded to leave, hands raised in front of him in a sign of surrender.

Hermione, showered and dressed, bounded down the stairs two at a time as thrumming of the floo network connected to the Malfoy's living room fireplace penetrated he ears.

Out stepped her parents, their expressions riddled with concern. Hermione knew she missed them, but the mere sight of them had suddenly hit her like a dementor's kiss. She needed their comfort, affection, and reassurance.

"Hermione! Oh my goodness you've grown!" her mother beamed, she raced into her welcoming arms feeling joyous tears prickle the edges of her eyes.

"Mum, I missed you so, so much. I – I really needed to see you."

She stroked her hair lovingly, Hermione felt the months of uncertainty and stress melt away with every touch. She breathed deeply, relaxing for the first time.

Hermione soon detached herself from her mother to greet her father, he had a sadness in eyes that she knew she was the cause of. She had disappointed him in a way, but Hermione was grateful that he attempted to conceal it from her knowing that it was not completely her fault.

She felt someone next to her, it was Draco. Narcissa stood further back, observing the Granger family's display with obvious longing and envy.

"Where is Mr. Malfoy?" Hermione enquired.

"Ah – he had some business to take care of in London, he won't be joining us until Christmas day," Narcissa answered.

A terrible weight Hermione didn't know she had lifted from her. It occurred to her that having Lucius Malfoy in the presence of muggles, in a confined space for a prolonged time period, wouldn't make for a pleasant visit.

"Hello Mr. Malfoy," my mother acknowledged, but not without a hint of wariness in her tone.

"Call me Draco. I'll show you to your room where you can put your bags." He turned to lead the way. It was then that Hermione noticed the twin suitcases at the bottom of the stairs.

"Draco, wait!" she cried.

He turned, surprised at her outburst, she grabbed him by the elbow and dragged him into the next room, much to the surprise of the adults in the room.

"You're letting them stay? Muggles. At Malfoy Manor. Pureblood central. House of the Untainted -"

He interrupted her rant, "Granger, you've made your point. But yes, mother and I decided that maybe having your parents here would make it... easier."

"Easier? It's bloody fantastic!"

Hermione practically skipped out of the room to her parents, glowing with happiness.

"And in which of the numerous wings will they be staying?" she asked Draco, the grin on her face indicating she wasn't insulting his home yet again.

He laughed lightly, his own small smile pulling at the corners of his mouth. "The West, all to themselves."

On their walk to the West Wing, Hermione's mother leaned down to whisper in her ear, "You two seem to be getting along rather well compared to the first time I met him."

Unable to reply, she simply nodded jerkily and continued to walk, Hermione felt as if someone had jinxed their relationship to fail.

When they made it to the room, Draco left them to catch up and informed them that lunch would be at one.

Her father decided he wanted to have a shower.

It was just Hermione and her mother left in the room. Hermione fell backwards, landing on the bed behind her, moments later her mother followed suit. They lay there is companionable silence, simply enjoying the nearness of each other. Suddenly her mother drew her into a tight embrace.

"You grew up too fast. My dear daughter... a mother at seventeen -"

"Hopefully eighteen... the baby is due a month after my birthday," she interrupted.

She smiled down at her daughter.

"Can I feel it?" she asked.

Hermione was stunned into silence. She had grown so accustomed to the fact that her pregnancy, though very real, was virtually ignored because of the circumstances. She would never admit it out loud, but she longed to be fussed over like any normal pregnant woman would be by her friends and family. She sensed that Harry and Ron weren't quite sure how to approach the issue. Boys. Ginny was probably her most supportive friend, but because they didn't have any classes together she rarely saw her what with quidditch and Hermione's obsessive study schedule. After all, being pregnant was no excuse for slipping grades.

"Sure."

Hermione rose off the bed and stood in front of her mother, she exposed her swollen belly, which her mother placed her hands on.

"I remember when I was pregnant with you," she began, happily nostalgic, "I drove your father absolutely mad with my cravings. Pickles and vanilla ice cream. "

Hermione's mood suddenly plummeted into loneliness. She didn't have a man to bring her pickles and ice cream. Or calm her down when her hormones got the better of her. Though, she couldn't forget that Draco had offered her water after she had been sick. That was a small victory that Hermione could build on.

Her mother, apparently sensing where Hermione's mind had taken her, asked with obvious concern, "Is he being good to you?"

"He surprises me every day, and not always in a good way, but I'm just waiting for it to all fall apart and hear him scream "Mudblood" from down the corridor."

"Sweetheart, I know he was horrid to you, which just adds to my confusion as to _how_ you even got pregnant in the first place, but remember this. He's petrified. His whole future is going to change when that baby is born and he had no time to prepare himself. I'm not excusing any of his behaviour, only offering an explanation as to why he may be this way. But if he _ever_ does anything to hurt you or that child in any way I know I'm not the only person he will have to watch out for. I don't know anything about magic, but I know how make a man hurt. "

A smile tugged at the corners of Hermione's lips at her mother's protectiveness. She would never not need her. Everyone thought she was tough and untouchable because of everything she has accomplished with Ron and Harry. But in reality, after every single mission, she wanted to be the one taken care of. She wanted to be the child.

Draco approached the Granger's room, fully prepared to interrupt and tell them that lunch was ready, but he stopped at the sound of his name.

"I honestly don't know if that will be necessary. I don't want to get my hopes up and say that I've seen a change in Draco's feelings, but... that's what I feel... I feel like he cares but isn't sure what that means to him yet. Then again, it's very possible he still despises me but doesn't harbour those feelings for our child."

Draco's conscience fluttered to life as he eavesdropped on their conversation, but he had heard enough. She was right though, as was usually the case with Hermione Granger. He did care, but didn't know what it meant or for who specifically his feelings were for... right now his child and Hermione were one in the same. Did that mean he had feelings for both of them? Hermione and Draco had one thing in common. They dared to hope.

He backed up a few steps before entering the room to give the appearance that he had just arrived, "Lunch is ready."


	6. Chapter 6

Surprisingly, they were not headed to the dining room in which dinner had been served the night before, instead Narcissa lead the way to a room with glass walls and ceiling, the sunlight poured in from all sides, illuminating the simply set table in front of them. The room lay in stark contrast to rest of the mansion.

"This is my personal room," said the older Malfoy.

Lunch was served; the bustling of the house elves filled the silence enough that no one felt compelled to start conversation.

However, as the last elf apparated with a sharp _*pop*_ Mr. Granger cleared his throat nervously before looking at the two teenagers, his suspicious gaze flitting between them.

"Are you two sleeping in the same room?"

"_Dad!"_ Hermione cried, mortified.

"No sir," Malfoy replied with complete calm and confidence, "Hermione has the room next to mine. In case... something happens."

Funny, he left out that piece of information when telling her where she would be staying, Hermione thought.

Hermione's father grunted, satisfied with his answer, however Hermione was soon wishing that Voldermort would stroll through the door and _Avada_ her when she heard him whisper none too quietly to her mother, "Though I suppose it's a moot point, seeing as how she's already pregnant."

Hermione dropped her cutlery onto her still full plate, silently begging her father to shut the hell up.

"How are Ron and Harry sweetheart, and your friend Ginny?" Her mother asked, an attempt at light conversation to overcome the awkwardness her father caused.

"I don't actually know, I won't be able to see Ron and Harry until Christmas day, and it's not safe for them to owl me."

Hermione's heart constricted at the thought of not seeing or communicating with her two best friends for two whole weeks. Hermione went to take a bite of her food, when the stench of fish made her stomach roll dangerously.

Lost in thought, she jumped slightly when Draco nudged her.

"What?" She whispered, surprisingly her parents and Narcissa Malfoy were having a pleasant conversation about muggle dentistry.

"You don't like the food?" He whispered back.

"Normally I like fish, but baby here apparently doesn't." Hermione caressed her swollen belly.

"Oh," was all he said.

No more than a minute later, Draco stood to leave, startling Hermione with the screech of his chair.

"Wai – Draco where are you going?" Mrs. Malfoy frowned disapprovingly at her son's questionable table manners.

"I'll be back in a few minutes."

Hermione stared after Draco has he left the room, wondering what was so important he had to leave in the middle of lunch.

Despite Draco's abrupt absence, conversation flowed quite well between the three remaining at the table.

"You know, when Draco came home with a black eye in third year I had to practically force him to tell me who did it, he was horribly embarrassed." Narcissa recounted fondly.

Hermione's face burned in mortification as the adults around her laughed at her expense.

Everyone was still in the throes of amusement when Draco re entered the room with a steaming plate.

And on that plate was Hermione's idea of heaven.

A juicy stake, medium rare, with mushroom sauce and mash potato.

Hermione craned her neck as the smells rushed into her flared nostrils. She licked her lips hungrily, never breaking eye contact with the plate of food as it moved closer and closer towards her.

Draco chuckled deep in his throat, "I take it the baby approves then."

She nodded wordlessly.

He removed the plate of fish and placed the steak in front of her. Just before she was about to devour it in one bite she look up to see the adults with matching amused and shocked expressions directed at Draco and herself. Draco, oblivious to their scrutiny, began eating and advising her, "The potatoes taste great with that sauce."

"Thank you, Draco," Hermione said with deep sincerity.

A few moments later a murmured, "Your welcome," reached her ears. A small tugged at her lips, only the two of them understood the significance of his words.

Narcissa had shining eyes, her head tilted and her hand over her heart at her sons thoughtfulness, Hermione's father narrowed his gaze on the boy that impregnated his daughter, promising himself to have a talk with him later, and Hermione's mother shook her head knowingly that there was more to this boy than meets the eye.

The sound of knuckles rapping against the Malfoy's front door echoed ominously throughout the Malfoy mansion.

Hermione thought nothing of it, deciding that visitors in the middle of the day were nothing to fear. But at the frown marring Draco's features, and the wand drawn tightly in his grip, a sliver of fear sliced into her elated state.

"Draco?" She questioned meekly.

"Take your parents upstairs to your room. _Now,_" He ordered, the panic in his eyes made it clear that this was their first crisis situation.

Without thinking twice, Hermione grabbed her plate of food and lead her parents to her room. Just as she was about to close to the door, she heard voices downstairs.

"I need you to wait here," she told her parents.

They both looked at her, incredulous that she was going to leave.

"Hermione! You have to stay here," her mother whispered urgently.

"I'm just going to the edge of the stairs, I need to know who it is."

She ignored her mother's quiet pleas and made her way to the edge of the stair case, Hermione crouched down.

"– thought you were supposed to be in London with you father and mother."

She knew that voice.

"Well, Goyle, obviously I'm not. Was there something you needed? You know it's impolite to show up at someone's home without owling first."

This seemed to stump the Slytherin, and the silence stretched on.

"Or would it have been better if I weren't here at all. Okay, I'm going to ask you once. What are you doing here?"

Hermione could hear the suspicion coating Draco's words.

"I – I didn't want to do it, it was my dad, he made me come here and... a- and..."

Suddenly, there was a crash. It appeared that Malfoy had lost his last shred of patience and slammed Goyle against the wall.

"And do _what_ exactly?"

"P-Plant... this."

Hermione heard the rustling of Goyle's robes as he nervously drew something out of his pocket. She couldn't take not knowing what it was, silently descending the stairs, Hermione listened to Goyle pitifully beg.

"If that is what I think it is we are going to have a serious problem my friend," Draco said, malice coating every word.

Peeking around from the side of wall, Hermione saw a blood red stone held tightly in Goyle's grip.

"I... I'm so sorry, I didn't have a choice, I don't even know what it does all I know is that I was supposed to break it up and put it in all the rooms of the house -"

Without warning, Draco dragged Goyle from the wall and forced him on his knees. Draco then stood behind him, gripping his neck.

"Do you want to know what it does Goyle, you complete and utter _imbecile._ Do you want to know what you would have been responsible for?"

Without waiting for Goyle to answer, Draco smashed Goyle's face into the ground and roared, "That is an infertility stone. It's a fertility stone infused with a drought of living death and it renders any who touches it infertile and if a pregnant woman comes into contact with it, her and her unborn child would _die_."

Hermione gasped audibly, it was then that she noticed the protective gloves Goyle was wearing to handle the stone.

At the sound of her gasp both men turned in her direction, knowing she was caught Hermione abandoned her hiding place.

"Hermione, go back upstairs _now_. You can't be anywhere near this."

"Granger, you're here... at Malfoy manor... oh..."

Even Goyle, the bluntest tool in the shed, could put two and two together.

Hermione ignored Goyle's ramblings and said to Draco, "So Voldermort isn't telling the death eater's who they're killing or why."

"He probably doesn't want word spreading," Draco deduced, his grip never wavering on the struggling man beneath him.

"What should we do with _him?"_ Hermione asked, gesturing to Goyle with a look of disgust.

"Mother is owling Dumbledore, the Aura's should be here shortly to question him before hopefully throwing his ass in Azkaban."

Naturally, this did not sit well with the cowering Death Eater, he began struggle with renewed vigour. Draco had not taken the stone from Goyle; he had nothing to protect him from its power.

Draco noted with panic that Goyle was losing his grip on the stone.

"Don't you dare let that shatter!" he hissed.

The last thing on his mind was keeping his grip on the stone, "I can't go to Azkaban, I'm only seventeen please don't let them do that to me Draco, we were friends!"

It slipped, falling to the floor. The sound of shattering glass reached their ears.

Thinking quickly, Draco let go of Goyle and dove for Hermione bring her to his chest and acting as a shield for any shards of the stone that were projecting towards them.

"Draco, what are you doing! Move before you get -"

Draco cut her off when he picked her up bridal style and sprinted towards the room in which they had lunch.

A deep thrumming, like power pulsing, echoed through the room behind him.

Once they were safely locked in the room, Draco put his ear to the door, as he suspected the Aurors and Dumbledore had arrived.

"On the floor! Drop your wand!" Hermione heard a voice that she recognised as Tonks.

Realising that the stone was shattered around the room they were all standing in Hermione cried, "Don't touch the shards, they're part of an infertility stone!"

"Kingsley, would you mind taking the boys gloves and collecting the shards?" she heard tonks ask.

"Why, because I'm the one least likely to have kids..." he mumbled.

Hermione then directed her attention towards Draco who was sitting on the floor with his head in his hands.

Not knowing what else to do she put a comforting hand on his shoulder.

What she wasn't prepared for was him to yank her down to his level and hug her tightly.

"Is everything okay in there?" he asked, his words muffled by her bushy hair.

"Yeah, it's okay Draco," she replied gently.

"Good." He grasped Hermione's shoulders, pulled them out of their embrace and stood them up.

His previously worried expression morphed into anger.

"_Never_ disobey me again. When I say run and hide, you damn well get yourself off – the sodding - grid."

Hermione was taken aback by his sudden harsh words, moments ago he was showing her affection she didn't know he was capable of.

However, after the initial shock, Hermione replied, "You do not _own_ me Malfoy. I will do what I think is right, you are sorely mistaken if you think that I'm going to blindly carry out your every demand."

Malfoy almost laughed in her face. She thought this was about him trying to control her.

He grasped her arm as she turned to leave to tell her just that when she whipped around to land a punch to his face.

He caught her fist before it could make contact with him. Draco leaned in close and growled, "And _you_ are sorely mistaken if you think I'm the same cowardly thirteen year old boy."

He released Hermione and proceeded to leave the room, calling over his shoulder, "Go with your parents, and _do not_ come down until we're sure that every shard is gone."

This was sounding suspiciously like he was trying to protect her and the child, Hermione thought. Looking back, she may have over reacted just a tad... but she'd sooner kiss McGonagall on the lips than admit that to him.

Draco strode into the entrance hall of the mansion muttering furiously under his breath.

"You right there Blondie?" Tonks inquired, her eyebrow raised in question.

"Stupid bloody know it all, what the hell was she thinking? She literally has to stick her nose in _everything_ doesn't she?" he rambled.

"Is that code for 'Thank Merlin she's okay, I don't know what I would do without her?'"? Tonks joked.

Draco just glared and took a pair of material gloves from her before helping to pick up the large shards of the stone.

When they finished, they cast a sweeping spell to detect any lingering pieces.

"Okay, well that's one crisis averted. Only about a thousand to come…."


	7. Chapter 7

It was three days before Christmas and Hermione awoke in a panic realising she would be welcoming her friends empty handed on Christmas day. That would not do.  
Her parents had left the day before but surprisingly Hermione didn't feel lost without them.  
Seated around what had now become their regular dining table, Hermione cast furtive glances at the blond boy in front of her.  
Without looking up from the newspaper he was so unnaturally fixated on, Malfoy said, "I know I'm good looking Granger, I don't need you panting at me for confirmation."  
Or perhaps not so furtive.  
Ignoring Draco's snarky comment, Hermione took advantage of this opportunity for conversation. "I need to go to shopping."  
He raised a single eyebrow in question, and said with a slightly bored tone to his voice, "Didn't peg you as having the girlie desire to shop."  
"I don't, but Harry, Ginny, and Ron are coming for Christmas and I need to get them presents."  
If Draco said one more thing that wasn't "sure" she was going to shove her eggs in his white pristine hair.  
"They'll just have to settle for you being alive. We're not risking it."  
Hermione wasn't sure what pissed her off more, his answer or the fact that he was so egotistical that he didn't even have to look at her when he answered.  
"Malfoy, I'm not a prisoner and you're not my guard. I wasn't asking your permission I was just informing you that I was going." She pushed her chair out and didn't even attempt to conceal her satisfaction at seeing him finally turn his gaze on her, despite the fact that his eyes were burning fire.  
"And how exactly are you planning on getting to Hogsmeade or Diagon Alley without my assistance?"  
Hermione turned to see his smirk, obviously thinking she has no option but to give up. Amateur.  
"Unsurprisingly, you fail to consider the fully functioning muggle world I could easily apparate to. I'll be back before dark."  
Filled with warm satisfaction, Hermione attempted to apparate. With about as much success as a hair out of place.  
Draco folded his paper as a chuckle laced with smug delight reverberated through the kitchen.  
"Unsurprisingly, you fail to consider the impossibility that Malfoy Manor can be reached by apparation. Don't you think there would have been more than the one attempt on your life if death eaters could apparate into the grounds all they bloody please?"  
"Fine. I'll walk out the front door."  
As she went to do just that a firm hand slapped itself onto the deep red wood of the door in front of her.  
Without turning around Hermione demanded, "What are you going to do now? Fling me over your shoulder and lock me in my room for four months?"  
A resigned sigh blew against the hair at the nape of her neck, and she barely supressed a shiver.  
"You get one hour. If you haven't collected everything by then that's just too bloody bad."  
Hermione fought the urge to giggle with excitement.  
She settled with, "That's acceptable. I'll be back no later than 12."  
Hermione ducked under his still extended arm to make her way to fireplace, Draco's hand shot out and gripped her firmly by the upper arm.  
"I'm going with you."  
She couldn't argue with that, it wouldn't be terrible to have a bodyguard.  
"You know how this is going to look though, right? Us shopping together? We're guaranteed to run into people we know. The whole student body and then some are probably aware of my condition by now."  
Draco's eyes narrowed to slits.  
"And whose fault is that? I don't remember rejoicing at the fact you announced your pregnancy to the entire school."  
Hermione's cheeks flamed at the memory, she turned away from him.  
"I wanted to hurt you so bad…. I couldn't let you think for a second that you had succeeded in making me into your mudblood whore."  
Draco's shoulders jerked at the mention of "mudblood whore".  
"I didn't feel that I had succeeded in anything except humiliating us both. I know I drove you to doing what you did. I won't hold it against you anymore if you do the same for me."  
Draco Malfoy: mature and forgiving. These were not words Hermione would ever have thought to link together.  
His eyes flitted around her face, studying her creased brow and pinched lips.  
"Okay. For a butter beer."  
"Pardon?"  
"I'll purge that incident from my memory bank for a butter beer. The craving is nearly unbearable," she elaborated, rubbing her belly and exhaling longingly.  
Draco chuckled deep in his throat. "Who knew you'd be so cheap to buy off."  
"Don't underestimate the value of giving a pregnant girl exactly what she wants. We can be your best friend or the reason you never see daylight again."  
They entered Diagon Alley with hunched shoulders and gazes to the ground. Hermione heard Draco digging around in his jacket pocket and suddenly a black knitted beanie was pulled unceremoniously onto her head.  
"Shove your hair into it. If anything is going to get us noticed, it'll be that frizzy abomination."  
Hermione made a fist and wacked Draco's arm with all her might before complying with his request.  
He grit his teeth, but didn't react beyond that. A scene was not what they needed.  
Just as Hermione was forming a retort concerning his hair's own bright, white hue, Draco pulled on his own olive green beanie.  
He took her by the elbow as they walked down the bustling wizarding centre, casting his gaze to every available corner of his periphery and looking just more than a tad on edge.  
"I think you're causing more of an issue with your withering looks than you would be if you were doing cartwheels up and down the alley," Hermione bit out through clenched teeth.  
She heard him release a haggard breath before dropping him arm from her elbow and maintaining a more relaxed posture.  
"I just don't know what to expect, we haven't been in public since this whole thing started and I'm fairly sure the whole point of you staying in the manor was so we wouldn't have to find out."  
Ignoring his grumbling, Hermione lead them towards a Quidditch supplies store.  
"I wonder who we're in here for," Draco snarked beside her.  
Ignoring the Malfoy yet again, Hermione requested a pair of gold and red stitched Seeker's gloves from the store clerk. At first the teenage boy appeared friendly and helpful as he walked away and reappeared with the item in question, but soon Draco and Hermione saw realisation sink into his slack features.  
Hermione began to shift uncomfortably under his gaze, not knowing whether to ignore his obvious gawking or scream at the top of her lungs "Yes! I am Hermione Granger, the responsible and brainy member of the golden trio. Yes, this is Draco Malfoy, a Death Eater, and yes this is his child growing inside of me. Would you like a bloody autograph?"  
Before the pregnant girl could resolve her internal debate she was already being lead forcefully outside the door by a stony faced Malfoy, who collected the gloves off the counter and tossed a bag of galleons at the fumbling store clerk.  
They were back into the cold of the busy alley. Draco pulled his beanie off, with more force than was required of the task, and ruffled his white blond hair with visible frustration, not looking Hermione in the eyes.  
"We probably go to school with him," Hermione deduced.  
"How many more shops do you need to go to?" He asked, not commenting on her observation.  
"Three."  
"Great. Well I can expect we'll receive similar, if not more vocal reactions, from those who manage to get a decent look at us. So let's get it over with." While speaking, Draco shoved his beanie back over his head and gently grasped Hermione by her upper arm.  
What was with all this possessive touching?  
"I still expect my butter beer! I don't care if there is a wizarding war going on in the Three Broomsticks, I am not leaving until I get to taste that sweet ambrosia."  
Draco merely grunted in response to her dramatic display, but it wasn't a "no" at least.  
Their next stop was Flourish and Blotts, and Malfoy predictably had a snipe about her bookworm nature at the ready.  
They were inside the shop for no more than two minutes before the same compulsion to shift away from the inquisitive gazes overcame her. She hadn't looked up from the book she held in her hand, but had barely read more than the title. She was too focussed on the series of gasps and whispers that rose up from behind Malfoy, who was sandwiching her between him and the bookshelf.  
Suddenly, an unmistakable ethereal voice floated to Hermione's ears from in front of Draco, "Hermione, you shouldn't get so close to the bookshelf like that, there is no telling how many Kratshunts are in there."  
"Luna!" Hermione cried.  
Malfoy raised a single eyebrow at her uncharacteristic show of female giddiness. What he didn't fail to see were her eyes shining with unshed tears as she darted out from behind her to embrace the odd girl.  
Feeling uncomfortable at her obvious happiness at seeing another female who wasn't his mother or her own, Draco cleared his throat and averted his gaze to the shops across the alley. What he saw in one of the shop windows caused his throat to constrict. He did not like the fact that the item could induce such a reaction in him, but he felt compelled to get it anyway.  
He turned back to the two girls, Luna was busy pressing her hand against Hermione's growing belly with that far away look he knew the girl often slipped into.  
"Granger, I have to pick something up from across the road. Can I trust you not to wander off with Moon here for five minutes?"  
That earned him an eye roll from Hermione and a confused expression from Luna as she turned around behind her twice to make sure it was her he was referring to.  
"Yes, I'll be right here with Luna."  
Malfoy waved off her correction with a hand as he walked out the door.  
Luna looked at her with a face as blank as a canvas, and asked without a hint of sarcasm, "How did he get you pregnant again?"  
Hermione couldn't hold back the explosion of laughter that burst forth from her throat at Luna's sincere question.  
Once Hermione had settled down, she replied as honestly as she could, "It seems like someone out there has a lot of power and a dismal sense of humour."  
The two girls walked down the aisle towards the back of the store, a particularly interesting title caught Hermione's attention, and she quickly picked it up without breaking her stride.  
She was giving Luna a lingering hug goodbye when Draco returned with a small package in hand. Hermione didn't bother asking what it was, she didn't have the energy for the conversation that would be required to beat it out of him. This was the most activity she had demanded of her body in a long while and she was completely drained. Not to mention, it would also lead to questions about her own purchase.  
"One more stop before butter beer," she reminded him while breezing past the door he had opened for himself.  
She decided Honeydukes would be more than a safe bet for Ron, she emerged with a basket that rested on her bulging belly and towered over her line of vision. Hermione counted the steps leading from the shop in her head 1… 2…. 3.. "Ohh!" she cried, having misjudged how far away the last step was, she screwed her eyes tightly shut in preparation for the imminent impact.  
But it never came. Malfoy had grabbed her around the waist and took the leaning tower of sweets off her hands. His left hand was splayed across her engorged midsection.  
Suddenly, Draco jolted away from her at the same time she felt a strange pushing sensation on her right side.  
"What the hell was that?" He cried, plonking the sweets on the step behind her, bringing his wild eyes and quick breaths close to her ear.  
"The baby.. It kicked." She couldn't bring herself to look at him, instead Hermione spoke to his chest.  
Without waiting for a reply, she swooped down to pick up her Honeydukes purchase and swiftly turned around again to make a beeline for the Three Broomsticks.  
What she didn't count on what Draco moving even closer to her so that she turned smack bang into his unbearably hard chest.  
"I'll uh.." he cleared his throat, "I'll carry that."  
Surprised, but not willing to look a gift horse in the mouth, she handed it off to him. They walked in silence, both considering the gravity of what had just occurred. Hermione had a tightness in her chest, her breath was shaky as she considered if she and Draco had been any other couple there would have been tears of joy, words of affection and the all encompassing warmth and tingle that happened at a moment of pure bliss. But they weren't.  
Draco was still reeling from the fact that the child he often detached from Hermione had suddenly sewn together an inextricable connection in his soul through such a fleeting act.  
They made their way inside and made their way to the darkest corner of the pub, both feeling as if there had been enough attention on them for one day.  
After another minute of unbearable silence, Hermione stood with the intention of heading to the bar, but Draco placed his hand over hers and whispered, "I'll get it."  
Hermione sat back down and placed her hands together as if she were were praying, desperately trying to think of something safe to say once he returned.  
"Why… why didn't you tell me that was happening?" Draco's voice was strained and high compared to his normal deepness. He placed a butterbeer in front of her, but Hermione didn't even spare it a glance.  
She brought her gaze up to his own, their hot breath mingled in the short space between them, still slightly white from the outside cold. Hermione hadn't expected more than a dismissive grunt, and he had never so much as looked at her stomach since the muggle ultrasound, let alone touched it before. So, all she could think of to say was the truth.  
"That was the first time."  
Hermione noticed he had bought himself a tumbler of Firewhiskey, for which he was probably more grateful for at this moment than before.  
With a slight nod, he tapped his glass against her own and downed the entire drink without even a wince.  
She in turn picked up her glass and tilted it in his direction before also chugging the entire contents, Hermione let her eyes fall shut and elicited a low moan, momentarily forgetting that things were supposed to be awkward with the man in front of her.  
"Shall we head back?" Hermione asked.  
"Hm?" Draco pulled his attention from the empty tumbler in front of him to see that Hermione had also finished her beverage with the same vigour.  
"Definitely," he said, brushing his fingers along the small package on the inside of his coat.


End file.
